Here's a snippet of Cocktails at Sunset, Chapter Two. This is the unedited early version. I hope you enjoy getting an early peek.
============================
============================
Despite
having my pillow over my head and the blinds closed, the sun still forced its
way into my room and pried open my eyes. During my sleep, I had twisted my sheets
into knots around my legs. I tried to untangle myself and the leftovers of my late-night snack
of potato chips crunched under my back. A few remnants dropped out of my tangled black
wavy hair. In times like these, I wished I had a dog to lap up the crumbs to
save me from the tedious job of stripping the bed and washing the sheets. On
the other hand, I could simply brush them onto the floor and deal with them another
day.
I
usually had Sunday nights off at the restaurant, but I picked up an extra shift
to cover for another server. That still left me most of the day to decide
whether to be productive or lazy. Productive meant I would wash my sheets and all
the laundry piled up in the corner of my bedroom and straighten up the apartment.
Oh yeah, and I think I remembered a promise to myself to exercise.
It was
oddly quiet without my old rescue cat, Bugsy to make demands on my time. My
neighbor Arlene would not bring him home today since it was her weekend to keep
him. Always an inside cat, he had wandered off during a burglary of my
apartment, which resulted in love at first sight for the two of them. After serious
hesitation on my part, we arrived at a shared custody plan. Though an odd
arrangement, Arlene wasn’t lonely, I had reliable pet care, and Bugsy made out
like royalty.
I
rummaged in the kitchen and managed to find a piece of bread for toast and my
second to last Diet Mountain Dew. Hours later, I had a clean
apartment, a freshly made bed, and clean laundry. All that effort qualified as
exercise in my opinion.
Since
both Emmett and Jonas had approved my makeup efforts, I applied a mascara and
swipe of eye shadow. I even added a few pieces of jewelry for good measure. Emmett
will be proud, I told myself in the mirror. Time to head to work—my home away
from home.
Sunday
is generally a light night at the restaurant and I was looking forward to an
easy shift. The surprise came when I checked out the reservation book to see
“light” didn’t begin to describe it. With only two reservations tonight, I
guessed I would be donating my time, because it was unlikely I would make much
in tips. I already regretted spending my hard-earned dollars on healthy food.
I hung
out at the end of the bar, watching the door and hoping for walk-ins. Marty,
the bartender wasn’t fairing much better as he stood polishing glasses. We watched
a nature show on the bar television about the hard life of Emperor penguins.
I
rearranged the barstools for lack of anything better to do, and called to
Marty, “This show makes we want to cry. Is there anything else we can watch?”
Marty
flicked through stations while I vetoed boxing, car racing, baseball, and
volleyball. We wound up back at the penguins in time to see one devoured by a
shark in a scene as grisly as a Halloween horror flick.
“Hey,
Marty, where’s your Aunt Pearl? Doesn’t she usually come in on Sunday nights
for dinner?” I asked. I licked my lips remembering how her cookies warm from
the oven would melt on my tongue.
“Yeah,
now that you mention it, she’s usually here by now. I guess I better check up
on her.” He dug his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed.
When
she answered, he nodded a few times before his face went white and he dropped
the phone.
“Marty,
what’s wrong?” I ducked under the bar gate and picked up his phone.
Marty’s
hands shook as he took it from me. Tears brimmed in his eyes. The silence
ricocheted off the walls of the restaurant and I held my breath in fear of his
answer.
We all loved
Marty’s Aunt Pearl, and not just because she always made treats for the staff,
but because her exuberance for life was contagious. After having dinner at the
bar with Marty, she would head over to One Eyed Jack’s Saloon where she would down
a single shot of Whiskey and dance until closing with any cowboy in the joint. She
had not modified this routine since I had been working at Wild Bronco... until
tonight.
=================================
Happy Trails,
Leslie
Comments
Post a Comment